


born under a bad sign

by reallivewire (WonderAvian)



Category: Halloween Movies - All Media Types
Genre: Blood, Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Internal Monologue, Movie: Halloween (1978), Movie: Halloween II (1981)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-24
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-16 11:33:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28955766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WonderAvian/pseuds/reallivewire
Summary: The first time he sees her is on the front door step of his old house.
Relationships: Michael Myers & Laurie Strode, Samuel Loomis & Michael Myers
Kudos: 4





	born under a bad sign

The first time he sees her is on the front door step of his old house.

She is young, and caring, and pretty. She intrigues him.

She doesn't know that he can see her. She doesn't even know he's there. It tickles at his insides, an amusement he now knows is considered Wrong.

He's not innocent, he knows, as he watches her walk away. But she is.

He is going to enjoy toying with her.

* * *

Her friends are easy prey. All too foolish and excitable. They're still fun to mess with, though, and their corpses make for wonderful decorations.

She screams and cries when she sees them. Gasps and sobs and slides down the wall.

He trembles from where he hides in the shadows.

Her fear is delicious.

He needs more.

She gets up and starts to move away. So he tightens his grip on the knife and moves. Towards her.

He misses on purpose. The chase that follows is more than worth it.

* * *

No-one makes a move to help her. Briefly, he feels disgust for the people barricading themselves behind closed doors.

Aren't people supposed to help one another? Its what his doctor always said.

And then she stabs him in the neck with some thin sharp object, and any pity he feels for her disappears.

It takes a moment, but he gets up again.

* * *

He's faintly impressed when she manages to stab him in the eye and turn his very own weapon against him. He waits, face twitching as he lies prone on the floor.

She thinks he's dead.

She's a fool.

He makes a mistake when he goes to strangle her. She manages to take off his mask.

No-one gets to do that.

She may as well have taken off his skin.

For the first time in fifteen years, he feels genuine fear.

He pulls the mask back on just as his doctor rounds the corner of the stairs. It covers the bottom of his face just as his doctor shoots him.

He staggers back into the other room. His doctor follows.

His doctor shoots him a five more times. Each shot pushes him back.

And suddenly he's falling.

* * *

He's still alive.

* * *

They know about him now. He sees it on the television at the house he steals the knife from.

He doesn't kill the old couple. Too easy. Too close.

He does kill the girl next door though. He only wishes he had more time to savour it.

* * *

She's been taken to a hospital. He makes his way there unimpeded. All this ruckus, and they still can't differentiate between him and any other trick or treater.

The hospital is different from Smith's Grove. It wasn't made for people like him. It wasn't staffed for people like him either, and he easily cuts down the late night staff one by one.

The one thing that annoys him about the place is just how big it is. He's been here for what must be at the very least an hour and he is still yet to find her.

Oh well. Save the best for last.

* * *

He finally sees her. 

She is just down the hall, looking his way thanks to the nurse that called her name.

He stabs the nurse in the back and lifts her up. He would have preferred to make the kill with a knife, but the scalpel is the best he has.

The nurse looks down in shock as her shoes slip off her feet.

Down the hall, his obsession stares in horror.

He smiles fondly behind the mask.

_You didn't honestly think I would let you get away, did you?_

She finally finds the will to move her feet, and she stumbles painfully away from him.

He lets the dead body fall to the floor.

Let the chase begin.

* * *

She manages to get through his red room maze by the skin of her teeth. Absently, he wishes she had stopped if only for a moment to admire his work.

To his annoyance, he realises he's lost her. He frowns in disappointment.

Oh well.

He need only wait.

She's not going very far with all the car tires slashed, hobbling weakly on a banged up foot, all while shell-shocked and pumped full of drugs.

He would know.

There. A car alarm.

She scrambles out of the howling car, scraped hands dirty and bleeding, searching wildly for him with panicked eyes.

 _Hello,_ he feels like saying.

She looks towards the hospital entrance, where his doctor and the nurse from last night and a bumbling police officer all walk in, nattering amongst themselves about him.

She crawls toward them, screaming for help.

 _Too late,_ he thinks, as he emerges from the shadows, towards her.

She sees him coming and picks herself up off the ground. She runs the best she can towards the building, banging on it and screaming.

Poor girl. This is the second time tonight this has happened to her. If only someone actually cared...

His doctor opens the door and pulls her inside.

 _Try and stop me,_ he thinks, and walks through the glass like it is nothing.

His doctor opens fire on him. The bullets tear through his body, his heart, his lungs, a familiar pain.

 _Oh,_ he muses, as he sinks to the ground, _that hurt._

* * *

The cop is so very stupid, he gets himself killed. He even makes a stupid face as his throat is slit.

His doctor shouts something. He takes hold of the girl's arm and he and she retreat further away. The nurse from last night has disappeared.

He shoves the pig to the side and stands.

The end is so close, he can practically feel it.

Oddly, it tastes like ash and burning flesh.

Excitement re-energises his weary limbs and gives him the strength to move forward.

This hunt is his to win.

To the victor, go the spoils.

* * *

He finds their hiding place with relative ease. Finally, the anger and frustration that has been curdling inside him all night can be put to rest.

He hears her and his doctor talking faintly. It matters not when they are so close.

With a mighty hand, he smashes through the locked door.

A gun clicks to his left. He turns abruptly, and his doctor withers in horrific realisation.

He stabs his doctor in the gut. His doctor looks down, eyes wide. The gun falls from his hands.

 _Sit down,_ he thinks, as his doctor staggers backwards. _I'm not finished with you yet._

She looks up at him from where she is huddled in the corner. A gun is at her feet, and she stares, blinking tiredly.

She doesn't look as afraid as she should, and it makes something writhe dangerously inside him.

He moves slowly towards her, scalpel at the ready.

Finally. Finally, let it be over.

He wants to see the life fade from her eyes as she dies.

She looks up at him. She speaks.

"Michael."

He pauses.

_What?_

He had expected her to cry. To plead, to bargain. To do something that all victims did in their final moments.

Of all things, he certainly wasn't expecting _that._

She knows his name, apparently. 

She is indeed special.

He can't help lowering the scalpel and tilting his head.

Oh. What does it matter? Plenty of people know his name.

Just because this time feels different, doesn't mean he'll show her any mercy.

He raises the scalpel and steps forward again.

Time to die...

_Sister._

"Michael, no!"

**BANG**

**BANG**

...

......

.........

......

...

............it's dark.

Why can't he see?

His eyes are bleeding.

His eyes are... Gone.

Something hisses, like a snake from his childhood. It surrounds him, makes him feel cornered.

Trapped.

The hissing grows louder, and he swings wildly in agitation.

"Go. Go! Get out of here!"

He turns blindly towards his doctor's voice.

Light footsteps escape past him.

Damn everything to hell.

"It's time, Michael."

No.

No, it isn't.

It can't be.

He steps blindly forward.

And everything explodes.

The pain is like nothing he's ever experienced. The air is sucked from his lungs and leaves his ears ringing. His mask melts onto his face like an unwanted, grotesque second skin. If he had a voice, he would surely be screaming.

Bullets are nothing next to the agony that is burning alive.

Somehow, in the midst of it all, he's made his way out into the corridor.

He can't see, but somehow he knows she is lying there, watching him burn.

_Does my death please you, sister?_

The flames climb higher. They lick at his bones. He staggers, and starts to fall.

Even in his final moments, he feels no remorse, no regret.

There is only the sickly rage that burns him from the inside out. 

And even then, that rage flickers weakly and dies. The inhuman will that has kept him alive for so long finally fades. 

In the end, the Shape's heart ceases to beat.

And Michael Myers collapses, face-down on the dirty hospital floor, dead.


End file.
